an outbreak of anger came to her as a relief, such as Emma had recently found in the shedding of tears.  On her own account she felt strongly, but yet more on Emma’s; coarse methods of revenge naturally suggested themselves to her, and to be thwarted drove her to exasperation.  When Emma persisted in steady opposition, exerting all the force of her character to subdue her sister’s ignoble purposes, Kate worked herself to frenzy.  For more than an hour her voice was audible in the street, as she poured forth torrents of furious reproach and menace; all the time Emma stood patient and undaunted, her own anger often making terrible struggle for mastery, but ever finding itself subdued.  For she, too, was of a passionate nature, but the treasures of sensibility which her heart enclosed consecrated all her being to noble ends.  One invaluable aid she had in a contest such as this—­her inability to grow sullen.  Righteous anger might gleam in her eyes and quiver upon her lips, but the fire always burnt clear; it is smoulder that poisons the air.

She knew her sister, pitied her, always made for her the gentlest allowances.  It would have been easy to stand aside, to disclaim responsibility, and let Kate do as she chose, but the easy course was never the one she chose when endurance promised better results.  To resist to the uttermost, even to claim and exert the authority she derived from her suffering, was, she knew, the truest kindness to her sister.  And in the end she prevailed.  Kate tore her passion to tatters, then succumbed to exhaustion.  But she did not fling out of the room, and this Emma knew to be a hopeful sign.  The opportunity of strong, placid speech at length presented itself, and Emma used it well.  She did not succeed in eliciting a promise, but when she declared her confidence in her sister’s better self, Kate made no retort, only sat in stubborn muteness.

In the afternoon Emma went forth to fulfil her intention of finding lodgings.  She avoided the neighbourhood in which she had formerly lived, and after long search discovered what she wanted in a woful byway near Old Street.  It was one room only, but larger than she had hoped to come upon; fortunately her own furniture had been preserved, and would now suffice.

Kate remained sullen, but proved by her actions that she had surrendered; she began to pack her possessions.  Emma wrote to Alice, announcing that the house was tenantless; she took the note to Highbury herself, and left it at the door, together with the house key.  The removal was effected after nightfall.

CHAPTER XVII